07/14/2016

Croatia has long been high on my travel list. Everyone who goes simply raves about it.

A few weeks ago our beloved youngest daughter called (my step-daughter actually, but I claim her and her wonderful husband as my own), and said, “Guess what! We’re going to Croatia in two weeks. And you’re coming with us! We’ve booked hotels, picked some great restaurants, and we’ve found a good flight for you from Lyon”.

Do we have great kids or WHAT! So off we went, just like that.

If you’ve been to the Cote d’Azur, you know how drop-dead gorgeous it is, and how tightly developed. Croatia is like that, but minus the modern condo developments. Historic towns perched above the sea with happy red tile roofs, small islands everywhere, and water that is a shade of blue that can only be described as dazzling. It’s gorgeous, and it has an authentic air.

It is impossible to imagine, in this paradise, that there was a brutal war here that ended in 1995. Chatting with one of the restaurant owners in Dubrovnik brought it home. “We were trapped here for three months with no supplies coming from the outside—no food, nothing,” he told me. “I was 24, but I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Now, however, life is good. Highlights of the trip: walking over a mile around the high rampants of the old town of Dubrovnik and looking out over the ocean and the rosy roofs and steeples of the town--where, as an added bonus, they were busy filming "Game of Thrones" (you can see a bit of the ramparts to the right in the above photo). Strolling the promenade in Split, with palm trees snaking along the water, and passing under the many arches of the old castle that once dominated the town. Cruising out to intimate islands with lazy bars and sandy beaches. Dining in the warm twilight at surprisingly sophisticated restaurants.

But the most lasting impression: the people of Croatia. To a person, the folks we encountered were sincerely convivial, eager to chat, ready with a smile.

Case in point: I was taking a photo of an over-the-top bakery, and one of the workers popped her head into the shot with a cheerful “Coucou!” as she leaned in. I asked to take her proper picture; she grabbed a co-worker, and they posed, beaming. They didn’t speak English (though almost all Croatians do), but that didn’t stop us from having a fine time.

I hope the photos below will entice you to put Croatia on your travel list as well. Or maybe you've been, what did you think?

Game of Thrones characters chat with a photographer in Dubrovnik

A ship on the Games of Thrones set, in the shadow of Fort Lovrijenac

Evening on the main square in Dubrovnik, with the famous Orlando's Column

On a Croatian island, selling sea shells instead of lemonade. This photo cost me a shell, well worth it for that smile.

Strolling the seaside promenade in Split

Inside the ruins of the castle that form the old town in Split

A market vendor roping in daughter Suzanne with his magic kitchen tools. I bought some too! This charming Croatian has a future on the Home Shopping Network.

Waterfalls at the Plitvice National Park. There are 16 lakes and too many waterfalls to count.

Gelato was everywhere! That's my kind of country.

Salut from Croatia!

In the COMMENTS last week: Vicky, I was so touched by the story of your breakfast club, thank you! Of course the lovely Loulou, distant relative of our cat Domino, checked in. (Loulou is currently in Rome, you can follow this divine cat at Living with Loulou). Suzanne, gros bises to Sassy, and Ellie I shall say hello to Chippie for you. MM asks if there are shelters in France. It's complicated: there is an ASPA-like shelter, but they don't believe in neutering which they think it's unnatural, and it's very small--hence, pretty useless. So small local organizations (I work with two of them) try to take up the slack. But we are overwhelmed. French villages often have many feral cats unless someone in the village is into capturing and neutering them.

House notes: one of our readers has a beautifully restored house for sale in the Lot-et-Garonne in the Aquitaine. A riverside house with a tobacco barn and pool, at an amazing price! You can check it out here.

Favorite Reads: Our country had a terrible, bloody, and scary week. Our hearts go out to the police, and to the victims of a few bad cops. Here are two really good articles I read this week which helped to make sense of it: Frank Bruni's Divided by Race, United by Pain and A Week from Hell by Charles M. Blow. And this one was really thought-provoking: David Brooks asks, Are We on the Path to National Ruin? Readers, you may have more readings to contribute.

In the comments Susan mentions that her favorite childhood book was Millions of Cats . It's still around, got to get it for my grandkids!

06/30/2016

It's time for my annual blog about cats. I am passionnée, as they say in France: passionate about cats. And also distressed that we have way too many of them on the planet who are neglected and abandoned, and they are the focus of my volunteer work.

So today, my yearly photo post on French cats. Our lead supermodel is Artistic Cat, who was perfectly posed for a portrait, taken through a village gate.

One lovely thing about France is that pets are allowed most everywhere, and many restaurants and shops have their own. In Cluny the main hotel is on the square, and the sassy calico who has been the hotel’s celebrity resident for years can be found lounging on a sofa in the foyer, working the tables in the restaurant, or sunning outside the front door. There is an automatic sliding door at the entry, and I often see her waiting outside patiently until a guest enters or exits so she can zip through. Below, the sassy girl lollygagging in the gravel on the outdoor dining terrace, by our table:

And here are two shop cats, taking in some sun:

I volunteer at a Swiss neighbor’s “cat hospital”, which she has built in her back yard, as a shelter for abandoned or sick cats with no homes. At the moment several of the cats have a contagious bug, so I’ve temporarily brought home two of the healthy but feral kittens from her shelter, who are now installed in our guest room. Since they’re feral they hiss at the sight of a human, so my job as a foster mother is to socialize them. I must report that after just three days, it’s going well. They’re now fond of cuddles and are sitting in my lap. That is, when they’re not bouncing off the walls, quite literally. I call them the Flying Babycats. They careen about with not a single thought about where they might land after hurling themselves off the bed or dresser at breakneck speed. Fortunately they are so tiny that they are seemingly boneless and unbreakable. Meet the Flying Babycats, Tigrou and Bolero:

Now all we need is a loving family for these two wild things. Croisez les doigts, s’il vous plâit: cross your fingers!

Finally, I must include a photo of our rescue cat Domino, whom you know from previous posts. Living in Burgundy, Domino is of course fond of testing the wine, and he has quite a good nose.

And for your French lesson du jour, I’ll end on this note: I was talking to a French neighbor about cats the other day, and she said, well you know what they say about cats: "Les chiens ont des maîtres, les chats ont des valets." In other words, "dogs have owners, cats have staff.” I was tickled to hear that they have the same funny expression we do! And as two well-trained valets, we can attest to the truth of it.

In the COMMENTS: So many of you had your own French banking stories, I loved hearing them. Glad to hear it’s not just us!

06/16/2016

The French boulangerie is at the heart of the village, the source of all things nourishing. You get your daily bread here, but also a serving of gossip or news, local knowledge, the weather report, or directions if you’re passing through town.

But back to that in a minute. First I want to tell you about French banks. Which, compared with what we are used to, are completely bizarre. We call them The Banks with No Money.

We first learned of this when we went to our own bank to get a check cashed. “Oh no, Madame, we don’t cash checks here.” Hmm. What to do? In the end we had to deposit it in the ATM, then get some cash back, in several withdrawals. Well, OK, that works (as long as the pesky ATM is working).

Then we had friends who went in to deposit some cash in a friend’s account, as a favor to them. The bank wouldn’t deposit it. “But it’s cash!" they said. "We’re not asking for money. We’re giving you cash!” Nope, they wouldn’t take it. Our friends ended up depositing it into their own account, then writing a check to the bank for the same amount. That, it seemed, was OK.

Try to get a loan, and it gets even more more strange. When the bank look at your portfolio, they won’t count your stock holdings as assets. No, those are too unreliable, you must have a guaranteed income large enough to justify the loan. As Ron likes to say, Warren Buffet couldn’t get a loan approved in France (let it be said here that the US could learn something from this conservative stance---we seem to be at the opposite end of the spectrum, and it has not been a success).

We had friends in the above situation, plenty of assets but not full guaranteed, who tried to borrow 100,000€. They had much difficulty but the bank finally agreed. “We will give loan you 100,000€” they finally said. “But you must give us 85,000€ to hold in escrow for the life of the loan”. Note to bank: it's called a LOAN, which means you give the customer the money up front, not vice versa.

I was chatting with a French antique dealer one day and he explained it to me this way: “French bankers are thieves,” he said. “You can’t trust them at all.” Cynical for sure, but we began to wonder when our checks were suddenly all blocked, and people started calling us because our checks had been returned. We quickly call the banker. “Ah oui, Madame, we blocked your account because you lost your checkbook."

Exasperated, I asked, “Do you have some sort of documentation that we lost our checkbook? A letter, a phone call?”

“Mais non, Madame. But we are sure your checkbook is lost.” Needless to say, it took a while to get this sorted.

But here is the most curious aspect of French banking. One day I was in Macon, a good sized city, and I needed change for a 50€ bill, so I stopped into a bank.

“Madame, “ the teller sniffed, “we do not keep MONEY here.”

“But it’s a BANK," I said. "Surely you have 50€? And if not, where would I go to get change?”

“To get change” she said, “you should go to the boulangerie”.

Favorite Reads: I just finished Me Before You , by Jojo Moyes. I suppose I'm the last person around to read it, but I really enjoyed it. I wish I was in the States, so I could catch the movie!

Department of Miscellany: I had to share this photo. Look at what our friend Gerard made, after the lid of a teapot broke. The birds can nest inside, and you can fill the cup with food. Clever, n'est pas?

In a final note, our hearts go out to our friends in Orlando. Might we do like they do in France, and in Europe? Almost no one has guns (and you certainly couldn't buy an assault weapon legally if you were on a terrorist list), and there are almost no domestic shootings, gun accidents with children, or mass shootings, especially with legally purchased guns. As a result the murder rate is a fraction of what it is in the states. If only we could learn from them!

06/03/2016

When it’s spring and you’re ready for le soleil, a cool rainy day (or week) can suck the sunlight right out of your soul. We had a mild winter here in Burgundy, but a spring that’s cool and damp enough to soak into your bones and your spirit. The grass looks perky, but our scowling faces do not.

Still, the marché is full of fat, ripe spring veggies begging to be plucked. So when the spring rains come, it’s time to make soup.

My neighbor and great friend Marion made a tomato red pepper soup the other day that was delicious, so I decided to try my own version. I consulted Martha Rose Shulman's recipe as well as Marion's. Now I have a great new soup recipe, which I can serve to company as my summer starter, since it’s delicious hot or cold. It was tasty enough to penetrate our sun-starved spirits.

On this rainy day I served it hot, with cracker crostinis. I spread crackers with a cream cheese/parmesan/garlic/chive dip, and topped that with sliced radishes. A lovely crunch with that supple soup. Come summer I hope to be serving it cold, on a dazzling cloudless day. Here’s wishing you a spring full of sunny skies, and if not, at least a bubbling pot of soup on the stove.

RECIPE: Rain or Shine Tomato Red Pepper Soup

I happened to have some tasty spring cherry tomatoes from down south on hand, and fresh tomatoes really amp up the flavor in this soup. But I took the short road and used roasted peppers from a jar, they’re fine for this recipe. For the broth, use chicken or veggie broth or water. I used two parts water to one part wine, plus a teaspoon of Fond de Volaille, which is a sort of powdered bouillon commonly used in France.

This is a no-measuring, make-it-in-a moment recipe.

Chop an onion and just a bit of celery if you have it, and finely chop a couple of small carrots. You can add some heat here by adding a small chopped hot pepper, or if not you can add some heat later.

Sauté the veggies in olive oil for maybe 5 minutes, then add 3 chopped garlic cloves, and cook another minute. Throw in about 1 1/2 cups of coarsely chopped fresh tomatoes and sauté another minute. Add a 12 oz. (340 gr) jar of roasted red peppers, drained, and stir it all around a bit. Then add broth (see above) to cover, 2 cups or more.

At this point I added salt and pepper and a little piment d’espelette for heat. You could add Tabasco, Sriracha, or cayenne pepper to taste. Simmer this for about 15 minutes, taste to correct seasonings. Then throw in a few fresh basil leaves if you have them; cool slightly and then purée it with an immersion blender, or a regular one (if you’re worried you’ve got too much liquid and it will be thin, drain some off and save it; then add back in as needed after you blend it). Add a half a cup or more of crème fraîche or sour cream, and stir well. Re-heat just to a simmer, or chill it and serve it cold, with a swirl of cream and a bit of chopped fresh herbs. Some small croutons would not be a bad addition.

In the COMMENTS: Ellen, Julie, Ali and Alix have church bell stories of their own to tell. Suzanne, I've been sneaking out between showers to prune and plant, and I hope it will pay off when the weather "settles", as you say. Stephany, welcome to the blog. And to Natalia: oops, that chocolate disappeared like magic, merci!

One of our commenters this week, Lin Wolff, is an American with a charming English bookstore in the south of France, which is well worth a stop if you are in the neighborhood, the kind of old-fashioned book store you really want to linger in. It's in Valbonne, which is one of my favorite towns in the South.

05/19/2016

Je suis habituée. It means, I’m used to it. I think of this sometimes when I’m working in the garden. I’ve been out weeding and slaving over my plants all morning, and I’ve forgotten to take a moment to survey our sweeping view of the valley.

But there is a view from the front of our house, very different from the one at the back. We live in the shadow of a Romanesque church, built in the 10th century. It stands alone on a grassy knoll, our watchman, the pinnacle of our perched village.

In daylight it looks friendly and lovely, its stone roof and steeple silhouetted against periwinkle sky and pillowy cloud. And if I pass it by sometimes without a glance or a thought, it’s because it is so closely woven into the fabric of the village. Photo right, the front of our house faces the church.

But when darkness comes, it’s different. When I go out into the quiet heart of the village at night (which I so often do, very late, to corral our roaming cat), it never fails to startle me. Bathed in its floodlights, it looms above, dazzling against the dark sky napped with stars. In the dead quiet of a village midnight, it speaks volumes, of the present and the past, of the many centuries that have passed under its stony watch.

Then there are the bells, three rounds of them, which define our day. They start at 7:00 am—not just with seven bells, but with a bright carillon. Traditionally for waking the farmers, but a bit hard on the expats who might like to sleep just a tad later. But the church is a stone’s throw from our bedroom window, so it keeps us industrious, and 7:00 it is.

Working in the garden or around the house, near mid-day I have one ear tuned for the sign that it’s time for every French person’s favorite time of day: lunch. Twelve bells means it's the moment to put work aside to putter about the kitchen, and set a table on the terrace for two.

As evening sets in, we wait for seven bells, quitting time for farmers (and gardeners) and the official French moment to bring out the wine (though we’ve been known on occasion to follow the American it’s-five-o’clock-somewhere rule).

Sometimes, in an off hour, the village is suddenly filled with an insistent clanging, a carillon that plays and repeats, each swing of the heavy bell pealing louder and louder. We pause from our tasks. Did someone in the village die? Or is it a wedding? Or a funeral? We can’t know until we peek through the gates to see what sort of procession is passing by.

La cloche and its ringing: je suis habituée. The rhythm of a French village, shaped by bells and steeples, and now matched by the rhythm of our hearts.

In the COMMENTS: One of our comments this week is from Lidy at French Garden House. Francophiles, rush right over to her design blog where you can get ideas, plus buy something from her edited French collection. Then click on her Facebook page to see that her house is on the cover of French Country Style Magazine this month. Felicitations, Lidy! On Facebook, my old friend Steve Savage talks about fallen chocolate cake, which we must try. And Myrtile offers another mother's day quote from Victor Hugo: O l'amour d'une mere, pain merveilleux que nul n'oublie. (Oh the love of a mother, a marvelous bread that no one ever forgets).

FAVORITE READS: My friend Patty recommends Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris, what looks to be a charming tale that dates from 1958. Somehow I've missed this one--readers, do you know it?

Photos below: The church viewed from our bedroom window; and on the other side of the hill, the path to the church from the village cemetery.

05/05/2016

Mother's Day is this week-end in the states, so I think it's time to look into how les mères are fêted in France.

Turns out that in France, Napoleon started it all in 1806, when he issued an edict to celebrate mothers with large families, in hopes of upping the birth rate. But the fête des mères didn't really get going until after World War I.

Though the date is different, (last Sunday in May), it's celebrated here pretty much like in the states. Moms are appreciated with a festive meal (we hope THEY don't have to cook it, but it happens), and/or a cake. The primary school kids labor over homemade cards and presents for their beloved Maman.

For a little French practice, here are a few things the famous French have to say about mothers, with their translations:

For a perfect Mother's Day dessert, how about a beautiful heart-shaped French Coeur à la Creme? It's a rich concoction involving lots of heavy cream and cream cheese or sometimes ricotta, served with red fruit or a coulis. Our friend Sam Hoffer over at the My Carolina Kitchen blog tells the story of this dessert and gives us a great recipe. To make it in its traditional heart shape, you need a special special porcelain mold with holes in the bottom (I'm searching for one at the flea markets), but Sam gives you easy options if you don't have a mold. This dessert isn't common in our region, but I mean to try it when I find that mold!

And a very happy mother's day to all!

In the COMMENTS: I certainly learned something(s) from our commenters this week about ‘hand pies’. Martin, I had never heard of Jamaican patties, similar to empanadas I think, but often curried. And Anne (of Musics and Markets Tours) mentioned pastillas; they seem to be Spanish in origin, and made with phyllo dough. Several folks mentioned cornish pasties—forgive me for forgetting an English classic! Natalia has a recipe for a delicious turnover, and Christine (of Pen at the Ready) tells us how to make Chilean empanadas. Jackie, I think you are right, a ham and cheese croissant is about as close as it gets, for the French. Francine, thanks for being a sharp-eyed editor.

FAVORITE READS: Very pleased to announce today that our long-term loyal reader Herm Meyer has a book of poetry out! It's called Pic-poems and Stuff and it's unique because it includes "talking pictures", in other words poems built around and inspired by photos. Have yousat down and relaxed recently with a book of poetry? Me neither, and I'm looking forward to it. Felicitations, Herm!

04/22/2016

Most every culinary culture has a version of this: something a southerner might call a ‘hand pie’, or a savory turnover. Pastry or dough, wrapped around something delicious and usually baked, or maybe fried, that you eat with your hands. In Italy, it’s a calzone; in Spain, an empanada; a burrito in Mexico; a pastel in Portugal.

In France, non, merci. The French have a horror of eating with their fingers. There is le sandwich, but even that is eaten neatly, wrapped in parchment paper. Le hamburger, newly popular, is generally attacked with a knife and fork, as is pizza. They will wrap a filet en croûte and bake it, but that’s formal, knife and fork food.

I love a good savory empanada or turnover or hand pie, however. Not only are they delicious and fun to eat, but they can also be whipped up in no time without a recipe, with whatever’s handy, which is my favorite way to cook. They’re quick, unless you choose to make your own pastry, in which case I am in awe of your talents. If, like me, you are inclined to cheat, buy the best. In the states I like Pillsbury pie dough that you just unroll. In France I use use pâte feuilletée, pur beurre (puff pastry made with butter). You can make a meat version or a vegetarian one, and if you include a dipping sauce, it’s really special.

Like this week. I was in my usual, “Oops-it’s-6pm-and-I-don’t-have-a-dinner-plan” mode. In the fridge I had a leftover pork chop and a bit of cooked squash, so I made what you might call an Italian empanada. I sautéed some onions and garlic with a finely chopped carrot, then added some white beans and cooked it all down a bit. Then in went the squash, and a bit of baby spinach I had on hand.

We are a mixed household (meat-eating, and not). So I put half of the filling on a round piecrust, topped it with a bit of cheese, and folded it over. I crimped the edges, and my vegetarian version was done. I then stirred the chopped pork into the rest of the filling, and repeated the process on the other round of pie crust, for the carnivore edition. I baked them at 400 for about 15-20 minutes. We dipped them into a warmed marina sauce. Dinner for two, and lunch for tomorrow too!

Of course you could do a Spanish take, with red or black beans and some spices, and dip it in salsa. Or fill it with cooked meat and whatever veggies you like. Shrimp or fish would work too—well, the possibilities are endless. You don’t want your filling to be too liquid, or it will be soggy; but not too dry, either (mine looked a bit dry so I napped it with olive oil).

So how can we French-up our hand pies? I’m thinking of filling one with a mixture of mushrooms, sautéed with garlic and parsley, and just a splash of soy sauce, wrapped in puff pastry. Shall we dip it in a little sauce béarnaise? I’d better get out the silverware, though, if my French friends are around!

In the COMMENTS: Jan, love your image of finding raspberries while horseback-riding, and yours too, Vicky, of strawberries on the trail. Diane, I've had some wicked encounters with nettles in France, and I won't be gathering any! Noreen, you are the kind of cook we like, that chicken dish sounds wonderful. Cynthia tells us about cress gathering, Leslie has a great blog on gardening to visit, and thanks to Ellie I've checked out the May Victoria Magazine article on Burgundy. Ami, I share your mushroom gathering phobia, though I've done it and survived. Bobby and Diane, happy French honeymooning in Burgundy, and Paula, good luck with your move to France!

Favorite Reads: Congratulations to Natalia, who won our book giveaway of Emily Dilling's My Paris Market Cookbook: A Culinary Tour of French Flavors and Seasonal Recipes. And speaking of cooking, if you’re a meat eater, you might want to read the New York Times article this week by Nicolas Kristof, Animal Cruelty or the Price of Dinner?. In which he makes the point that, while we may be indignant at the abuse of a dog, we buy chicken that’s been scalded live in boiling water, or endured other atrocities—and is probably filled with chemicals you’d never want to put in your body. It’s worth your consideration.

When I lived in Paris I spent a lot of time shopping. Not the kind of shopping you may think of when you think of Paris- I wasn't shopping for clothes, or shoes, or antique books along the banks of the Seine. What I spent most of my time each week doing was shopping for food (full disclosure: I also spent a lot of time seeking out great beer and wine, too).

Because the origins of my food (and wine and beer!) are important to me and because I try to always support local producers, I planned my days around where to get the best quality produce and groceries. I would work my schedule around that of my neighborhood market, the craft beer store, the natural wine cave and my favorite small shops- the fromagerie, the Italian deli, and the fishmonger, to name a few. I am lucky to have a flexible schedule given the nature of my work and I often wonder how people balance full time jobs AND food shopping in Paris. The erratic hours, the fact that the markets happen in the morning, the time to get from one side of town to the other in order to get the best bread, and not the just ok bread, it's a full time job itself.

Fortunately, food is my job and shopping for it is part of the fun. Though I must admit that I think the errands that take over your day and the overall stress of city living are part of the reason I decided to leave Paris and move to the countryside. After 10 years living in the city, a city I still love very much, I was ready for the calmness of the countryside. The change of pace didn't change my commitment to eating locally and seasonally and as soon as I was settled into my new home I started to look into the best places to shop for food in the area.

The local market and co-op were obvious options, but the most surprising- and convenient- spot for me to faire mes courses ended up being right outside my front door! Apparently the slow pace of country life extended itself as far as food shopping, as I regularly found myself foraging in fields and forests for the ingredients for my dinner.

Fall foraging brought mushrooms- chantrelles and black trumpets in our region- as well as walnuts that fell on their own accord from a large tree in my backyard. Winter brought with it wild mâche, or lamb's lettuce, and the beginnings of spring onions- which showed up early due to this year's mild weather. I quickly had foraging fever- creating new recipes around things I could find in my backyard or in the nearby biodynamically cultivated grapevines. Walnut cakes, garlicky mushroom sautés, a mâche salad cosied up to some oeufs mayonnaises- these became common meals served in my country house. I love the fleetingness of foraging, how it makes you truly appreciate the changing of the seasons and the edible treasures of each time of the year.

Now spring is upon us, and with its arrival comes a whole new bounty of wild things to put on your plate. The spring onions have reached maturity and now can be cajoled out of the ground to reveal lovely little pearl-like onion bulbs that taste great thrown on a grill or chopped up and sprinkled over fresh eggs. The nettles are at their pre-flowering prime and will soon take over ever yard and field in sight. If you are careful to pinch off the topmost tuft of leaves- touching the stem and not the tops of the leaves- you can manage to avoid the “stinging” and just get the nettle. Another new arrival is ail des ours, or wild garlic, whose bright, tender leaves can be made into a delicious pesto.

Soon there will be wild strawberries bringing ruby red spots to lush green pastures, they will be accompanied by dandelion leaves and all sorts of edible flowers. By the time I've run out of recipes for those, bright red cherries will be ripening overhead and a new culinary conquest will begin. Sometimes I miss the baskets of walnuts that filled themselves when left under the tree. Sometimes in the winter it feels like the days of wild strawberries will never come. Foraging not only makes you love, and sometimes long for, a particular time of year- it also makes you take the time to appreciate the present. While I can't wait for fresh cherry pies and roasted cherries with creamy cheeses and all tha ways my imagination will wander with the next ingredients that nature offers up- I also know that, at any given time, I can go for a walk in the woods and come back with dinner.

Or better yet, you can WIN a copy with our BOOK GIVEAWAY this week! Anyone who leaves a comment on this post this week will automatically be entered into a random drawing to win a copy (drawing will be on April 15th, and winner announced in the next post).

In the COMMENTS: Mary-Anne, I'm still looking for one of those wicker market baskets! The rolling fabric one I have is foldable and practical, but not the least bit romantic. It seems I have lots of company, with my Basket Probation. Mariella, we hope to be sitting in the sun with you very soon at the Cluny marché. Natalia, well put: "Je suis Brussels, and further words are inadequate." How we hope it will be the last incident, but I fear we are in for more. And hello to my cousin Ann, thanks for checking in!

03/24/2016

The medieval city of Cluny has one of the best Saturday markets in southern Burgundy. We never miss it. It's nearly spring, bright and sunny even if it is a bit chilly, and the market is gearing up for the season. Come along with me today, for a typical Saturday morning at le marché de Cluny. Photo left: I always pick up a little something for the garden, from monsieur who grows the annuals. Who has an Italian accent and a very polite manner.

On arrive: Market day is busy, as you see. The whole center of town is closed off for the morning.

First stop, the veggie stands. Everyone has their favorite stand. I like the farm family, parents with kids in tow who grow every single thing they sell; and the bio (organic) stand, with le lait, le fromage,le yaourt, and les oeufs that they produce.

Then to la boulangerie. I'd really like to buy one each of these...

But instead I get one of these:

Spotted these fun outdoor cushions---they may have to come home with me!

These are my weakness. I love the green and blue one, but Ron has put me on Basket Probation.

Meanwhile, at the Bar du Nord, Ron and the neighbors are sipping their first expresso. Later in the morning they'll switch to une bière, or un petit blanc (white wine). For me, un chocolat chaud. We know the waiters well enough to get les bises (kisses on both cheeks). Below, Ron and friend Monty peruse le journal with their first coffee, supervised by Bugs himself.

If your bags are too heavy, Madame is there every week with her donkey to help out.

Lunch with the gang, then time to head home. Ahead of me, Madame has a bit of planting to do (and I'm coveting her basket).

Heading home after a great morning!

In the COMMENTS: Anja, welcome to the blog! Y'all will for sure want to check out Anja's own blog called DasBrooklyn. Anja is a German baker living in Brooklyn, and boy do her recipes look yummy! Dani and Julie, you are so right about the walking. A French friend stopped by and asked me to go for a walk with her--I got home four hours later! And to my Furman sister, no the French don't diet, and it may be time for another post on that subject. Natalia, "more days behind than ahead", I'm afraid that's quite true for me too. What better way to seize the day than to make that decadent quiche you suggested! (or Harriet, with your chocolate cake). Katy, that is the most unusual quiche I've ever heard of, and no wonder it's famous, it sounds delicious. Sam and Peter, my husband always says he hopes folks who visit us will take away one little French thing home with them, to better their lifestyle---maybe a glass of white wine with lunch, a leisurely breakfast, or a good expresso machine!

A happy Easter to all, and special prayers for the victims of terrorism in Brussels and their families and friends, with great sadness for the horror they have endured.

03/10/2016

Those French—they really know how to live! The French lifestyle is famous the world over. Truly, there is no “rat race” here. It’s funny, I get right with the French program when I’m in France, but back in the US, I slip back into my harried ways!

So let’s look at 8 ways we can soak up some of that great French lifestyle:

Cherish your leisure time.

We often live to work, while the French work to live.

Be with family, with friends, get outdoors. The concept of not using every single minute of your annual leave would be completely foreign here in France.

Don’t eat: Dine

Life in France revolves around the pleasures of the table. Meals, including breakfast, are long and relaxed and sociable. No snacking, s’il vous plâit, because its better to be really hungry. Anticipation is everything!

Dine en pleine air

The French will dine outside at home or at a restaurant, whenever they possibly can.

Drink good wine

The French have a deep appreciation of, and understanding of, fine wine. Up your quality if you can, and drink it often, in moderation.

Have a Cheese Plate

Un plâteau de fromage, always served after the meal, is one of the great traditions of dining in France. Serve two or three cheeses with some good bread.

Appreciate and revere beauty and good taste

Just one example, albeit a bit of a historical one: at any flea market, you’ll find tons of elegant, artfully embroidered linens. That’s because French women traditionally embellished everything from sheets to towels to tablecloths. It’s all about celebrating the art of living.

Take a Walk with Your Family

It’s a Sunday tradition: after the big Sunday meal, everyone, from Gram to toddlers, take a long stroll together. You see them on country roads, you see them in cities.

Be a good conversationist

The French LOVE to talk! The food at all these leisurely meals is important, but so is debate, discussion, and laughter. Put down the cell phone, raise your glass, and start the conversation.

And let’s keep the conversation going—what tips do you have for adopting the French lifestyle? And why not up your lunch game to start, by making this easy French quiche. Even easier if you have some leftover veggies, ready to add.

RECIPE: Quiche, the French WayI saw a recipe the other day for a deep dish quiche, made in a cheesecake pan. The French do the opposite: they make their quiches in the thinnest of tart pans.

If making the quiche in a tart pan with removable bottom, pre-bake the crust with pie weights. Then before you fill it, brush with some of the filling and bake again for 5 or 10 minutes more, to seal it. This prevents it from leaking in the oven, but I put a sheet pan under it, just in case.

I like to fill my quiche with vegetables and fresh herbs, but get creative! Smoked salmon is a frequent and interesting addition to French quiches. Photo right: Pile in the veggies as a base for a healthy and delicious quiche.

I am sorry to say I used a prepared crust, and I'm dead impressed if you make your own. Pillsbury makes a good one in the states, you just unroll and go. In France, try a pâte brisée. So here we go:

1 piecrust, homemade or store-bought

Any cooked veggies you like, and/or cooked meat or fish (for this one I sautéed some squash, onions, red peppers, and scallions)

1/2 cup of cheese, your choice; I used a mixture of white cheddar and parmesan. Gruyère is the classic.

3 eggs

1 1/2 cup milk

a dash of nutmeg and cayenne pepper

a handful of fresh herbs, if desired

Pre-heat over to 375. Mix eggs, milk and spices, plus salt and pepper to taste.

02/25/2016

Ah, l’amour! “The French, they love Love”, as our friend George always says with a flourish, in his best fake French accent."

My husband is fond of quoting an astute observation from Nicole, who is French teacher to us all: “Americans can’t talk about sex, and the French can’t talk about money.” In France it is quite impolite to talk about income, your investments, or even your career unless you know the person well. Ostentatious displays of wealth are seen as très gauche. Sex, however, may be more freely discussed. Photo left: Spotted at a French flea market, I believe this is an old-fashioned chamber pot, but with a festive theme.

So today, we WILL talk about sex, in honor of Valentine's Day this month. Or rather, we will talk about how the French talk about sex.

You will not be surprised to learn that many of the French “sexpressions” revolve around food. Hey, let’s dip the biscuit, Baby! That’s tremper le biscuit, in French. Well anyway the Local translated it as ‘dip the biscuit’; a more correct translation is to 'dunk the cookie', but that doesn’t rise up to the same level of nuance.

I tried to think of some American expressions for sex that involve food. Mae West’s famous comment leaps into the mind: “Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”.

I asked my expat friends in France to offer up some sexpressions from their native tongues. Some of what they sent is of questionable appropriateness to be printed here (including a photo, sent by a Dutch friend, of a woman who has incorporated condoms into her hairstyle. Don’t ask). But one you should know about, in the faux amis category, if you go to England: If you ask a Brit if they’d like to shag, you will be talking about a dance, but they will be thinking of something more, ahem, intimate.

Vive l’amour, and happy (belated) Valentine’s Day!

RECIPE: Better-Than-Sex Chocolate Cake, from Julia Child

This is a nearly flourless chocolate almond cake which I’ve been making sort of forever (Madame Child calls it Gâteau Reine de Saba). It’s from her first cookbook. It’s lighter than most flourless chocolate cakes and has that lovely hint of almond. The top often cracks; doesn't matter, it's still the best chocolate cake ever. The only tricky part of the recipe is the baking. You have to take it out at just the right time, so check carefully. You could frost it, but to me it needs no adornment except perhaps a dollop of whipped cream. Photo left by Justine Bursoni.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Set the oven rack in lower middle level. Butter and flour an 8” cake pan.

In a saucepan over low heat, melt the chocolate in the coffee or liquor. Set aside. In a mixing bowl, cream butter. When soft and fluffy, add sugar and beat 1 minute. Beat in egg yolks until well blended.

In another bowl, beat egg whites until foamy. Beat in cream of tartar and salt and continue beating until soft peaks are formed. Gradually beat in 2 tablespoons sugar and continue beating until stiff, shiny peaks are formed. Blend melted chocolate mixture into yolk mixture, then add almonds and almond extract.

Delicately fold in a third of the remaining whites and when partially blended, sift a third of the flour over it, and continue folding. Alternate rapidly with more egg whites and more flour until all egg whites and flour are incorporated. Turn batter into prepared pan, tilting it to get it evenly distributed. Bake 25 minutes but start checking at 20. Cake is done when puffed to the top and a toothpick inserted 2 to 3 inches from edge comes out clean. The center should move slightly when the pan is gently shaken.

In the COMMENTS: Frank, I love the Camenbert story! And see what Ralphe, who is French, has to say about cutting cheese.

Favorite Reads: If you haven’t been reading The Local, my dear Francophiles, you are missing out. It is France's news in English, plus lots of features for expats. Another good one, in a similar vein, is The Connexion.

02/11/2016

I was several years into our French adventure when I discovered to my horror, that there were les règles de politesse (rules of politeness) which had completely escaped me. Oh la la, I’d been an ugly American all that time!

Of course I should have realized, that in the land of liberté, egalité, fraternité, one must share the prime parts of the cheese.

Who knew that cheese, even slices, had prime parts? But indeed they do. And when there’s a plâteau de fromage, you must not be a greedy goat and take the best pieces for yourself (as I’d been unwittingly doing for years).

So stay with me, Francophiles, this is going to be complex.

First of all, there is the rind and there is the dough. Your role is to not leave the rind for the last person; the dough should be distributed as evenly as possible. For info, the taste gets stronger as it gets closer to the rind. This means any small round cheese, such as a Camembert, should be cut into wedges, so each person gets all the flavors.

Easy enough. But if a wedge from a large round is served on a platter, like a big slice of brie, the rules change. In this case, the first cutter slices off the nose, but at an angle, never straight. The next person cuts a diagonal slice, making a smaller wedge. Subsequent diners cut perpendicular to the rind. Got it?

But what if the slice is laid on its end, like a big slice of Roquefort? In that case, cut each dough corner off at an angle. Then cut in slices perpendicular to the rind.

Logs are cut in parallel slices, but you may remove the end first if there is a thick rind. Pyramidal and square shapes should be cut like a cake. There are additional acceptable ways to cut a square cheese, too complicated and mathematical to cover here.

Runny cheeses in a round box, such as époisse, are dipped out with a spoon, and eating the rind is optional.

Firm cheeses, usually laid flat in a rectangle, are cut in slices lengthwise if rind is only on one end, crosswise if rind runs along parallel edges.

Some Ideas for a Great French Cheese Platter: Be sure to serve cheeses at room temperature, and serve them after dinner, not before. Choose a balance of flavors and textures: firm and soft cheeses, sharp and mild. Three or four is a good number. Serve with a garnish of fruit and/or something to spread on top: walnuts soaked in honey, jams, or chutney. For an alternative to the plâteau de fromage, try serving a special goat cheese: see my post called Goats on a Log.

In the COMMENTS: Debbie, Ann, Judy, and Connie have all been to Le Rochepot, and yes Connie, let's all chip in and buy the place! Kiki, I was sorry I missed that Rick Steves show on Burgundy, but then I found this on Youtube: Rick Steves Burgundy: Profoundly French. Thanks for the tip!

01/28/2016

As you know, I go weak at the knees at the sight of a French château. I've visited many (and lived in one), but somehow we'd never stopped to visit the Cinderella castle that we often pass on our way to Beaune, Château de la Rochepot. I'd been longing to visit those sky-piercing turrets for a long time, and we finally got round to doing it. If you're planning on paying a visit to Burgundy and in particular to Beaune, you'll want to put it on your list, as it's very close by.

To get there, you wind through the sweet rural village of Rochepot, then walk up the steep hill to the drawbridge. This château has all the fun stuff: moats, draw bridges, beautiful grounds and position, and turrets galore. It has the colorful glazed tile roofs that are characteristic of the region.

And of course it has history. It was built in the 12th century, by a wealthy lord who was an advisor to the Dukes of Bourgogne. It is a rare example of French Gothic Revival architecture. But like many castles and other important buildings, it did not fare well during the French revolution. It was nearly destroyed and fell into ruin.

To the rescue came Madame Sadi Carnot, wife of a French president. She purchased it as a rather indulgent gift for her son in the late 1800's, who then embarked on a major restoration. The gallery of 'before and after' photos at the château was quite amazing. The renovation in the early 20th century was extensive, and brought what was a near total ruin back to its original state.

In researching this post I came across a big surprise: the château is for sale! For the price of a medium sized house in the Charleston historic district with a small garden, you can own this château, with it's 69 acres of grounds. Now that's a bargain. And if you buy it, will you pretty please invite me for a stay?

In the COMMENTS: We received a wealth of recipes this week, what a wonderful surprise! Beth sent two: a whole roasted cauliflower, and chicken cilantro burgers. Suzanne sends an unusual artichoke lasagna recipe that I want to try as well. Herm sent, by email, this quickie recipe for apple rolls (done in a funny video format) that's so easy. Both Dee and Natalia have more surprising ways to stretch meat, and I had never heard of either. Ally says 'putting an egg on top' is a hangover cure and Deborah thinks it might have Hawaiian origins. Ralphe is a kindred, spirit, a vegetarian in the land of la viande. As to where to get black beans in France--good luck with that! I once found dried black beans at the Carrefour, and I stocked up on them. But they are not typical in France.

01/14/2016

Photo: At least the cows in Burgundy have a pretty good life. This photo was taken near our house.

Trending now in France: burgers, American style. Often with a fried egg on top for a French touch (that's called a burger à cheval, because the egg is "on horseback".)

What's an (almost) vegetarian like me to do? The French surely eat more meat than in any country, except perhaps Germany. If you're eating at restaurants and you're a vegetarian or a vegan, prepare to stay hungry in France.

And yet, things have gotten much better since we've been here. Paris has vegetarian restaurants now, and there's even the odd vegetarian plate,on les cartes in the countryside.

I'm not a strict vegetarian--being married to an enthusiastic carnivore--but I try to be, simply because I'm an animal lover. At restaurants, I order veggies when it's possible, fish when it's not (but never lobster or crab. I can't bring myself to eat any animal that gets boiled alive). I find that many of the entrées (that's a starter in French) are wonderful vegetable concoctions, so often I'll order a couple of those instead of le menu.

Sometimes, though, you just need a good old fashioned burger. I would never buy a veggie burger at the grocery store (you couldn't find one in France anyway), but I've gotten pretty good at making them. They're so easy! I don't try to mimic hamburger, just to make a burger that's really tasty. Purée some black or red beans, rice, quinoa or bulghar as a base. Add roasted mushrooms, some walnuts or pecans, bread or cracker crumbs, and some spices. Fry in up in a bit of olive oil, put it on a bun with lettuce and tomato and avocado and a great sauce, and I'm pretty sure, you won't miss the meat. PHOTO RIGHT: No, these cuties are not on the menu. In France, à cheval means on horseback, or served with an egg on top when you're talking burgers.

If you want to just cut down on the amount of meat you eat or help save the planet, you will still certainly want to try Martha Rose Schulman's clever idea for stretching meat (or even seafood), which I've mentioned before. The perfect astuce (trick), it's not only a healthier alternative but a more delicious one. She calls it a mushroom base. She roasts mushrooms, throws them in the food processor, and mixes them in with the ground beef, chicken, or fish at a ratio of 1 part mushrooms to 3 parts meat, or even more. After all, burgers are often topped with sautéed mushrooms to amp up the flavor. It actually makes them so much tastier that the Resident Carnivore, also known as Ron, is asking for them.You can make a batch and pop them into the freezer. I even snuck them past my grand-daughter, who hates mushrooms, and she polished off two burgers in a heartbeat!

RECIPE: A Veggie Burger Even the French Could Love

These Black bean burgers have a bit of a tex-mex twist. For a red bean burger with grains which is equally good, see my 2014 post on le hamburger.

NOTE: I never cook veggie burgers on the grill. They are too lean. The flavor will be much better if you sautée them quickly in oil in a hot black skillet. They'll be done about the same time as your grilled burgers.

Two tips: First of all, you can also skip the bread and serve these with sour cream and avocado and salsa on top. Or even à cheval! And second, make a bunch and throw them in the freezer. Then you can impress your family with a hot lunch, almost as fast as you can make a sandwich.

Using fork or a potato masher, mash beans in medium bowl. They should be mushy but with some whole beans left. Mix in next 8 ingredients. Season with salt and pepper. Shape bean mixture into patties that fit the size of your buns--4 patties, for a standard sized bun. Refrigerate until ready to cook.

Heat a tablespoon of canola oil in a black cast-iron skillet, medium high heat. Fry patties about 3 minutes on each side. For 'cheesburgers': after you turn them over, put a slice of cheese on each pattie and cover skillet until it melts.

In the COMMENTS: Domino's guest post generated several notes from our readers' pets. Bonne année to all! But I was really shocked when I got a comment from Loulou, a tuxedo cat who has her own blog. She looks just like Domino! Cute photos and post, visit Loulou at Living with Loulou.

Favorite Reads: Who knew you could write an entire cookbook about a single dish: shrimp and grits? Nathalie Dupree did, and made it enlightening. I got a copy of Nathalie Dupree's Shrimp and Grits for Christmas, and I'm working my way through the recipes. Stay tuned for the winners! And if you missed it, see my blog post about Nathalie, who lives in Charleston.

It seems there has been a book written about my cat Domino (our December guest blogger). And I didn't even know it! Suzanne, in her comment, talks about the children's book Six-Dinner Sid, about a cat who secretly has six homes and six names, and no one knows it. A copy of that will go to my grandkids, thanks Suzanne!

12/24/2015

Today let us contemplate the infamous Christmas Letter. That purveyor of the humblebrag, or perhaps the lengthy and sleep-inducing tome from a distant cousin. We love them, we hate them, we send them anyway.

This week I was sipping a glass of wine with Nicole and I asked her if the French typically send Christmas letters, as the Americans do. She made a face. “Bah oui, je les deteste!”, she said. “I don’t want a five page letter from someone I barely know, telling me all about their children’s piano lessons.”

I had a good laugh at this. Some things are just universal.

Confession: I send a Christmas letter to close friends, but I endeavor to keep it short, creative, and interesting. I might send one in the form of a song or a poem or a puzzle; this year it will be a quiz. I’ve decided to share with you the one I sent last year.

Last year we decided to let our cat, Domino, write the Christmas letter. A little background for those of you who have not had the pleasure of meeting him: he is a rescue cat with feral roots who nevertheless considers himself to be of royal origins. He alternates between extravagant affection and worrisome aggression when crossed. His marked territory includes the entire village. He breakfasts/dines/naps with so many village families that we are not entirely sure we are his main proprietors. He has no fear of dogs, large or small; loud noises do not faze him. He walks at a single, slow speed, with a swagger that has caused one neighbor to dub him “John Wayne”. In the South we would call him sassy, here we would say coquin. (Photo above: the auteur, getting ready to celebrate Christmas). Here is what Domino had to say in his Christmas letter:

Coucou toute le monde,

Well it’s March at the moment and those two abusive, useless staff of mine are finally back from wherever they spend the nasty month of February, somewhere down on the coast. Not that it bothers me much. I’ve got another French family: my maison secondaire with my own chair by the fire, and of course I breakfast with the other French neighbors and have apperos with the Dutch ones, where I also have a personal nest and my own special treats. But still, leaving me was so wrong.

It’s June now and some noisy women are visiting. They laugh and carry on then go off to Provence to shop and travel. They abandoned me for a week but at least my Man is still around. It’s been a nice quiet week, and—-no wait, they’re back! Geez, and I hear there are other intruders lined up to visit. It's going to be a long summer.

Already the summer has been too crazy around here, with the neighbors dropping by constantly. The women are fluffing up each other’s houses with flea market junk, the guys are building furniture and stuff, always a commotion. The neighbors are alright though. When I go over chez eux, they give me chicken.

Now It’s August and there’s all sorts of talk about some château, where my staff used to live, being sold. Of course I never got to live there, that other cat did. They’re always going over there for parties and French lessons. (Hah! They should be truly bi-lingual, like me). Everyone seems sad about it. No skin off my pink nose.

It's late November now, and I see the suitcases coming out again. I’ve attacked the staff viciously a couple of times to let them know I don’t like it, but they seem determined. Well, tant pis, let them go. They’ll be visiting some other country for Christmas. I’ll just stick around here, where they know how to make a good paté, and the cheese is better.

Well, gotta go. It’s December, it’s frickin’ snowing here, but my staff are off on some tropical island with the whole family, leaving me to fend for myself for Christmas. Of course there WILL be foie gras, but still.

Merry Christmas or whatever,

Domino

And with that, my best wishes for a joyeux Noel and a very bonne année, to you and yours!

xxoo

Lynn

cc: Domino

In the COMMENTS: Iris, Libby, and Julie, you are so right about Picard! That's why the clever French woman in my story could (almost) get away with it. There is really nothing in the states to compare it to. Ann, enjoy Paris!

12/10/2015

Photo: on the main square in Lyon, a young French girl poses for a painting class.

I discovered an article on “French Girls vs. American Girls” at vogue.com, which included a video done by Camille Rowe, a French-American model. If you know the French at all, you will love this video—I was on the floor laughing.

Rowe manages to brilliantly skewer both the American teens (for their narcissism, and their focus on health instead of gastronomic pleasure) and the French (for their reticence and their culinary hypocrisy).

In case you don’t know a lot of French folks, here are some of the issues in the article and video to know about before you watch:

The grocery store scene: it’s France’s dirty little secret that lots of working women don’t much cook, despite their reputation as gourmet wonder women in the kitchen. Who can blame them? French cooking is complicated, and like women everywhere, they’ve discovered you can’t have it all. Witness the popularity of a French chain called Picard, a high-end store selling frozen, restaurant-quality dishes, from soup to nuts.

My favorite story in this vein: an American friend living in France got a coveted invite to a French friend’s house for dinner. She was dead impressed: 4 courses, all beautifully done-up and delicious. The next day she went to Picard to shop, and what did she see? On special that week, the exact same 4-course dinner, just thaw and heat. Aha!

Asking for Directions: If you’ve spent any time in France, you’ll LOL over that scene. If you ask directions in France, they’ll casually wave a hand in the general direction. Never mind that you’re ten turns and miles away, that’s all you’re getting. She gets the Americans just right, too.

The Greetings scene: Here she nails the famous French reserve, and American (shallow?) enthusiasm.

Hair washing (mentioned in the Vogue print article). It’s always been a puzzle to me: France has more beauty salons per capita than any other country, but lots of girls go around with greasy-looking hair. I figured it out one day when my coiffeur took one look at my hair and asked how often I was washing it. Every other day? Quelle horreur! Once a week and no more, he said, is the French way—to keep it from drying out. That explained the dirty hair.

Photo right: Are the stereotypes of French women real? Here, a mannequin at a marché des puces.

In the COMMENTS: You may want to take a minute to read the comments about the Paris shootings. They are wise, beautiful, inspirational. Thank you, everyone.

And getting back to our post on French scarves, our reader Kerry writes that American MEN wear scarves, too--at least when there in France! Her husband Joe sports one when he crosses the pond. She sent a photo: here's Joe, rockin' a French scarf. Tellement chic, Joe!

Favorite Reads: At an Alliance Francaise meeting we met Bente, a Norwegian ex-pat living in the states and married to an American. For her perspective on American life, check out her blog called Here in This Country.

11/26/2015

The shootings in Paris happened just after my last post, so I've taken these two weeks to read and ruminate about the horrific event that made the world shudder. Like many people here in France, we have friends who lived in that Paris neighborhood, turning the surreal into reality. And of course it is not only Paris that has suffered, there have been terrorist events all over the world this month. They are also a grim reminder of 9/11, the Boston Marathon bombing, the Ford Hood massacre, and the long reach of terrorism. Photo left: Paris, bouelversée: perplexed and turned upside down.

This is the week we reflect on our many blessings, a week of gratitude. But it is also a week of la tristesse. Sadness for the victims, for the world's most beloved city, shaken to its core. Sadness for the many desperate refugees, whose path is likely to be much harder. Sadness for innocent Muslims who may be regarded with increased suspicion. Sadness for people who are possessed of such anger, envy, and hatred that they want to brutally murder children, to destroy historic monuments, to be willfully savage.

Is this a war of religion? "My God is better than your god" seems to be the theme, and one that has inspired so much war and brutality throughout history. But the situation is infinitely more complicated than that.

Dear readers, we so often share books and articles with each other, so I will share with you today some of the things I've read these past two weeks: the wise voices which have inspired, touched, reassured or terrified. Photo below: on the banks of the Seine, Lady Liberty stands proudly on the deck of a péniche (a riverside houseboat).

Frank Bruni, "How ISIS Defeats Us". He says in part, "ISIS isn’t about a finite pantheon of ruthless puppeteers. It’s about a region in violent disarray, a culture in crisis and all sorts of brutal crosscurrents that no drone alone can address. Our assault on ISIS must be multifaceted...We lose the war against ISIS by being simplistic. We lose it by letting emotion overtake reason."

From Francis Clines: "The Real Terror Threat that Congress Should Confront". Which reveals that: "An egregious loophole that Congress has failed to close has allowed over 2,000 suspects on the federal terrorist watch list to freely buy firearms and explosives across a 10-year span. Data collected by the Government Accountability Office shows that at least 2,233 terrorist suspects on the watch list, though barred from airline flights, sought to buy guns between 2004 and 2014 and only 190 were rejected."

In Time Magazine this week, Madeleine Albright writes: "Our enemies want to divide the world between Muslims and non-muslims, between the defenders and attackers of Islam. By making Syrian refugees the enemy, we are playing into their hands. Instead we need to clarify that the real choice is between those who think it's OK to murder innocent people and those who think it is wrong."

John Alderdice, a House of Lords member and expert on countering terrorism, is a dear friend. He recommends this article for understanding ISIS. It's a necessary read but not a reassuring one. "Mindless Terrorists? The Truth about ISIS is Much Worse, by Scott Atran, writing for the Guardian.

I will also share My personal prayers for this Thanksgiving week:

--That we will honor the victims in this way: we will be brave, we will go on living freely, we will not allow the terrorists to bend our will. That is the best revenge.

--That France will make changes in their behavior toward Muslims: accept and integrate the Muslim community, and address the problem of disenfranchised Muslim youth. And that America too will fight discrimination in every form.

--That Europe and the US find a solution to the immigrant and refugee problem, with the kindness, compassion, and openness that has been a part of our history.

--That our leaders will not be weak, nor overreact emotionally to these events. That they will act thoughtfully and wisely and use all their resources to counter this distorted ideology, in addition to the military intervention that may be required. And that we as citizens will choose experienced, level-headed, humane candidates to fight this battle.

OK, deep breath, and we must all go on living, and be thankful for the beauty and love that the world offers, in the midst of suffering. On that note I wish you and yours the happiest of Thanksgiving holidays. And I offer a recipe to warm the soul in troubled times--and to use up any leftover pumpkin!

RECIPE: Pumpkin Pecan Bread or Maybe Cake, with Maple glaze

This recipe was inspired by a pumpkin bread recipe from Collaboreat. But I couldn't find my loaf pan so I made it in an 8x8 square cake pan, and cut it into squares. Which is better because with its nutty, cinnamon-infused streusel topping and maple glaze, it is more like cake and just as yummy, only healthier.

I've never seen canned pumpkin in France, but the French cook a lot with pumpkin, so I make my own purée. But canned works just fine.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and greasea 8x8 (or 9x9) inch square cake pan with baking spray. Put flour, sugar, baking soda, spices, and salt in a medium bowl and whisk to combine. In a large bowl, use a hand mixer to beat oil, egg whites, pumpkin puree, and vanilla until thick.

Add the flour mixture to the pumpkin mixture and mix until just combined. Use a rubber spatula to put batter in the pan and sprinkle with streusel topping. Bake for 40-ish minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Drizzle with glaze.

Note: cover pumpkin bread with foil three-quarters of a way through if it appears to be browning too quickly. Cool it completely before you cut or eat it, it's not good hot; in fact it's better the next day.

Mix ingredients in a bowl with a fork or clean hands until crumbly. Sprinkle on top of pumpkin bread batter before baking.

For the Maple Glaze

1 cup powdered sugarpure maple syrup

Mix syrup with sugar a few drops at a time, stirring after each addition, until it's the consistency of a glaze. Drizzle over cake.

In the COMMENTS: Besty, I’m on Scarf Probation and you are really getting me in trouble! How did I not know about Petrusse? Next trip to Paris I’ll sneak by. Ellie, real men DO wear scarves in France, (so do cowboys, per Herm), but I couldn’t find a man who would pose for me! Subject of a future post, I think. Julie, Sam and Natalia are kindred scarf spirits! Betina and Janine have great scarf-tying youtube tutorials to share, and Suzanne knows another scarf tying trick. Buffy and Debbie use scarves as decor, a fine idea.

Our loyal reader Colleen Taylor, a fine artist, has created her own scarf collection from her artwork. They’re beautiful one of a kind pieces. Her scarf at the right is called Bleu de France. You can see them all here.

11/12/2015

Photo: My friend Heather and I doing our best imitation of French femmes. Yes, I know we should be sporting the sexy French pout, but we kept getting tickled. (The scarf Heather's wearing is by Kenzo. Mine is from Fragonard)

We all know it’s true: French women have that fashion je ne sais quoi. And part of the quoi is that they can whip a scarf into a swirling, perfect confection, in their sleep. It’s in the genes, I suppose.

This post is inspired by my beloved and sassy daughter, Suzanne (well, step-daughter, but I’ve claimed her as my own). When Suzanne first visited Paris with me a couple of decades ago, she was absolutely captivated by the scarves that every French woman flaunts, tied casually or formally, around their necks. She was determined to learn their secret ways. She didn’t speak any French, but the shy-retiring-violet type she is definitely not. And so, in the week we were there, I became quite used to her stopping stylish French women on the street, and asking them to show her how they tied their scarves. And amazingly, they all did, and pleasantly.

A notable aside: Everyone thinks the French wear scarves all the time to look elegantly fashionable. Well, there is that. But the main reason is this: the French HATE the wind. Hot or cold, wispy or gusty, they think a breeze bears every nefarious germ that causes le rhume or la grippe (a cold, or the dreaded flu). Hence the protective scarf, their armor against evil.

As a result, the French vocabulary for scarves is very rich. Here is a primer:

écharpe: generic terms for a scarf.

cache-nez, cache-col: also a familiar terms for scarves, what we might call a muffler, or one that could be tied in that way. Literal translation: hide the nose, hide the neck.

fichu—a scarf that covers the head.

carré—a square scarf

Foulard—a scarf, usually square, in silk or a lightweight fabric, usually with a print.

châle—shawl

pochette or gavroche: a man's pocket square

And now, the how-to for the most common scarf tying tricks. These are the simple ones, but also the most popular. This post was photographed by our friend Kent with his supermodel-gorgeous wife Heather; we met them through their Unexcused Absences blog. They visited this week and were pressed into service. Heather actually taught me some new scarf tricks herself.

I happen to be an avid scarf collector (or I was, until Ron put me on Scarf Probation), so I’ve included the stores where I buy my favorite scarves, both in France and in the US, for the benefit of fellow addicts.

The Basic: just fold the scarf in half, lay it around your neck, and pull both ends through the loop. Scarf from J. McLaughlin (US).

A variation of The Basic: Wrap and pull only one end through.

Then tuck one end into the part that circles your neck. On the right, the finished look.

(Scarf on left from J. Crew. On the right, from Fragonard, a parfumeur who happens to also make beautiful scarves; in Paris, Lyon, Nice and other cities.)

The Traditional: Loop scarf around your neck once. Tie one end over the other, a simple knot. This scarf is from J. McLaughlin.

The Turtle, good for a thin scarf: tie The Traditional, then just tuck the knot under the top loop. Scarf from J. McLaughlin.

The Double: Heather taught me this one. Fold it in half, loop it around your neck, pull both ends through, as for The Basic. Twist again to make a second loop and pull both ends through the loop. The finished look is below.

(hot pink scarf above from Devernois, in all major French cities; orange scarf below from Fragonard).

The Double

The Wrap: A knotted shawl makes a nice look for evening. Silk scarf, 8 euros at the Cluny market! French markets are a great place to buy scarves at a good price.

In the COMMENTS: To add to the 10 Things I Learned Living in France, our readers, some with their own blogs, checked in. Julie of Traveling Through, who has a house in northern Burgundy, has a wish that everyone gets a chance to live away from home and adopt new rhythyms. Derin has thoughts on cycling through France. Natalia has a good point: should you get exasperated with the French, stop and smell the croissants! Good advice for travel anywhere. Kiki, I have a little French in my soul too, well put. Kristin (of French Word a Day), Jean-Marc must be in charge of the thermostat chez nous, as Ron is here! And if you want to know what Kristin has learned about France, which is a lot, check out her many books. Her latest is First French Essais: Venturing into Writing, Marriage, and France.

And if you want to go: Debbie Ambrous (her blog is A French Opportunity), has some thoughts on where to stay in the heart of Provence; Joan Levine (Ombre de la Tour) can direct you to rental houses in the Dordogne. Kim of 24/7 in France has a house for sale in a perched village near Nice that is to die for.

Favorite Reads: I've told you before about Kent and Heather's blog, Unexcused Absences, detailing their adventures on a canal boat in France every summer. Now they have a new boat: a trawler, stateside, for winter excursions! Follow their adventures here, if you too are considering ditching it all for a life of permanent vacations, as they have. Or just go for a short French canal boat adventure, and check out Heather's book, A Practical Guide for European Canal Boat Charters.

10/29/2015

From the French, from friends both French and expat, just from living here and soaking up the culture, here are some of the things I’ve learned from 12 years of living in France.

1. The good life is not just about work, about things, about getting to the end of your list. It’s about leisurely moments spent with family and friends. About relaxed breakfasts, long lunches, family dinners. Not just on week-ends, but every day.

2. One of the great pleasures of winter is crawling into a toasty bed with a heated mattress pad. I learned this from my English friend Chris, but I think every Brit has one.

3. Universal and excellent health care, for every citizen, with almost no paperwork or hassle for the patient, is possible and do-able. And the French do an impressive job of it.

4. Nothing allows you to get inside a foreigner’s head or their culture like learning their language.

5. There are few things more beautiful than living across the road from a 10th century Romanesque church that sits atop a hill and is lit like a beacon at night.

6. Life is more interesting when your friends come from a dozen different countries.

7. I will never be completely fluent in French, or lose my southern accent.

8. The French social system, for all its flaws, is enormously successful in providing basic humanitarian services (retirement, maternal care, health care, disability insurance, etc.) to every citizen, rich or poor.

9. It is hard to beat sitting on the terrace of a French café with a fresh, buttery croissant and a cup of piping hot espresso.

10. As a people, the French can be maddening, arrogant, and stubborn. They can also be kind, funny, and wonderful.

11. If you want to have a really fun and different retirement, take the plunge, and have an adventure.

OK, that was eleven. Expats and/or voyageurs, how has traveling or living abroad changed you?

In the COMMENTS: I had a great meet-up with loyal readers Molly, from Georgia, and Ricky, from Texas, last week in Cluny. Hope the rest of your trip was fun. Sandra, welcome to the blog! Natalia, you have the most incredible memory. Yes, the Bar du Nord was where I was sitting when I wrote about the sale of the château. Elle, glad you had a good stay in Cluny, and YES, I know that cat! What a sassy hotel cat Chipie is. One very busy summer market day I spotted him on the wall by the abbey, unfazed by the crowds all around. He sashayed over to the (automatic) doors of the hotel and sat waiting for me to walk up and open them for him. Mariella and Dee, see you at coffee, in the spring!

Mark, good question. To read the backstory of this blog, look under PAGES in the left column, "How we first came to the château". There's a book nearly done on that subject, if I can ever get around to finishing it!

Favorite Reads Art:Tom Vieth does beautiful, happy watercolors of his home in the Southwest. His wife Susan (of the blog A Small Village in France) has made some of them into scarves and tea towels. See them at Lily O's. And hearing from Mark Kane was a reminder of his lovely macro garden photos, which you can see at The Ardent Gardener on Facebook (see one below).

Photo left, see #11: Ready for a French adventure? Pack those bags and allez-y!

Photo below, one of Mark Kane's gorgeous macro shots of flowers, available for purchase at The Ardent Gardener.

10/15/2015

When we were living in the château and looking for a house to buy, one of our criteria was to live near a town with all the practical commerce we needed. Tournus, Macon, Chalon-sur-Sâone, and Cluny, each within a half hour or so of the château, were all contenders. As time went on we were increasingly drawn to the small town of Cluny, with its history that has made it internationally famous, its medieval streets, and the liveliest Saturday market around. We were lucky enough to buy a house just 10 minutes away. If you’re touring Burgundy, you may want to put Cluny on your list. Photo: You can get a panoramic view of Cluny by climbing the Tour de Frommage, by the tourist office.

Americans often don’t know the town, but nearly every European will be familiar with Cluny. In the 10th through the12th centuries, Cluny was the seat of the wealthiest and most powerful monastery in Europe, its priories stretching across the continent. The grand abbey church was the largest in existence, until St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican was completed (a mere meter longer!).In later centuries the abbots’ power began to slip. Sadly, during the French revolution, the church was mostly destroyed, its stone sold to local farmers. (We think the big, beautiful cut stone floors in our barn are likely from the abbey). But one of the main towers and some of the smaller buildings remain, and they are quite interesting to tour. Photo right: The abbey tower.

Cluny has other claims to fame as well. Summer week-ends you will see the equine set here, the riders dressed in their finery and parading their elegant horses around. A Jack Russell trotting alongside is a necessary accessory. Cluny has an equestrian tradition: the national stud farm where Napoleon trained his horses is in Cluny, and is still in use and open for tours. Many equine events and competitions are held here, and there is an important collection of old carriages.

But who are those young people, sporting long gray cotton coats which are individually decorated in a collage of colorful grafitti-esque motifs? Those would be the students of the Arts et Métiers, an engineering school which is a branch of the grand école in Paris and is housed in the cloister of the abbey.

Then there is the fun Saturday market, which attracts shoppers from miles around. We have “our table” on the terrace of the bar in the center of the market square, where folks from our village and other friends gather at a long table for a café or a chocolat chaud, and often linger into lunch.

All of this makes for a pretty perky little town. So if you’re in the neighborhood on a Saturday, do stop by—you’ll find us at the Bar du Nord, we’ll be that big, noisy table of locals, having a fine time!

You won't pass through Cluny without seeing a horse. This traveler is watering his ride in a fountain on the main street.

One of Cluny's medieval lanes.

A student from the engineering school shows off his personalized jacket.

At a fête, one of the entrances to the walled city is decked out in pink. Below, The door to the mairie (mayor's office) in Cluny.

In the COMMENTS: Martin, we now know where the expression “a chicken in every pot” comes from. And it’s French! Julie, you discovered a winner, I’m always glad to hear they still exist. Natalia, I did just as you said this week, but with baked chicken breasts, and the potatoes roasted in that jus were wonderful—and I was a relaxed cook too!

09/25/2015

Roast chicken is a classic and beloved French dish, best eaten in a cozy bistro. Is there any dish quite so versatile? It's equally at home at a dinner party or for a family meal; and it's pretty hard to mess up. After our post last week, several readers requested a French chicken recipe, especially the one that loyal reader Frank mentioned in his comment: a rosemary chicken that he spent years perfecting. So, by request, Frank has graciously shared his recipe with us. And I will share my Lazy Roast Chicken recipe as well. Photo above: I think we can safely guess the specialty of this French bistro.

Frank and his wife first ate French rosemary chicken in Paris. “We have spent fifteen years trying to remember the bistro in Paris where we first had it,” he says, a dish he’s been able to duplicate after much experimenting. “I have no idea if this is how it was done in the bistro where we first ate it, but my wife says I got the taste correct and that is what matters.” They are going back to Paris soon. “Maybe we will find it this time,” Frank says. I tried his recipe this week, and it is indeed a remarkable chicken, full of flavor.

My French roast chicken is for lazy cooks, and not as complex as Frank’s. One key to a good roast chicken is to buy a free-range, organic chicken. I would never buy a factory-raised chicken; the animals suffer terribly, plus they shoot them up with antibiotics and Lord knows what else. Free-range chickens TASTE better, anyway.

Here’s my lazy roast chicken recipe: I rub my chicken with olive oil and lemon juice, plus sea salt and pepper, then I sprinkle it generously with herbes de Provence. If I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll slip some fresh basil leaves under the skin, and stuff an onion and/or celery leaves inside. I roast it at 450 (225C) for 20 minutes, then turn it down to 375 (175C) and cook until done. Photo: And when I'm really lazy, it's awfully hard to improve on a French rotisserie chicken from the market.

So, now you have many options for roast chicken, and more are welcome, please add yours in the Comments section. Best get cookin’!

RECIPE: Frank’s French Rosemary Chicken

"I start with a whole chicken which I brine in a one-half cup per gallon salt solution. I add to this a cup or two of water in which I have simmered a few stalks of rosemary which I have first “bruised” with a rolling pin, and then cooled. The chicken stays in the brine for at least twelve hours. Then I rinse it and air-dry it or paper towel dry it. I then take the bruised rosemary from the brine and stuff it into the chicken and truss up the legs and wings with string. I slip sprigs of more bruised rosemary under the strings and sprinkle the bird with finely chopped fresh rosemary petals and some finely ground pepper. If the weather permits I spit-roast the chicken letting the drippings fall into a pan of new potatoes. I keep the temperature of the covered grill to about 325-350°. It takes about an hour and a half or perhaps a bit more until the chicken begins to shrink from the leg and wing bones and the potatoes are cooked. In the nasty weather of winter I roast in the oven, again over a pan of new potatoes. The brined chicken will be impossibly tender. I am getting hungry thinking about."--Frank Levin

My Notes: Frank's chicken is delicious. I roasted lots of veggies with it when I made it. Be sure not to add extra salt when you roast it, the brine makes it plenty salty. Ditto on the broth you make with the bones.

A 3 lb (1.5 kg) chicken takes about 50 minutes to an hour in the oven, and longer if it's bigger. It's done when juices run clear and the legs move easily. Or use a thermometer, it should be 170F (74C) at mid-thigh. I often just cut into the breast to check for doneness. Let it rest 15 minutes before carving.

In the COMMENTS: Connie, we loved spending time with y'all as well. Liz, Harriet and Vicky, thanks for the idea for this week's post! Natalia, you are so right: in the states, portions can be gigantic, sort of the opposite of Nouvelle. Maybe that's why the French are slim?

Favorite READS: Francophiles, please check out our reader Lidy's blog and French antique store, French Garden House. Her site looks like a fancy French magazine, and I don't know where she finds such wonderful French antiques. At right: her wine stoppers, fashioned from vintage French door knobs.

09/10/2015

Today I’m lamenting the pervasiveness of Nouvelle Cuisine in France, that artsy and architectural style of eating spread around the globe by the French, back when they were still in an inventive mood.

Nouvelle Cuisine was a revolution that changed the food world. It was creative and wonderful. It still has its place. But Nouvelle Cuisine became fashionable in the 60’s and 70’s, and the world keeps turning. With the exception of fancy, formal, expensive restaurants, the food world has moved on to more honest, straightforward food presentation, styling, portions, and cooking.

Except in France. Where Nouvelle and Haute Cuisine have now invaded those bastions of simple, French comfort food: the brasserie and bistro.

We don’t generally eat in starred restaurants, where Nouvelle Cuisine is more pervasive, and more appropriate.Mostly we hit the brasseries, cafés, and country restaurants. But lately even at these places, we now get food that is gussied up beyond recognition. My defining moment lately came when we ate at a cute local place, which calls itself a ‘café'. Someone ordered roast chicken. For me in France that conjures up a big fat crusty cuisse, skin golden brown, with an exuberant scoop of pommes dauphinoise, layers of potatoes with the cream oozing out all round. Doesn’t get any better than that.

What arrived instead: a tiny, shriveled skinless and boneless thing, a thin coat of sauce clinging to it, naked on a plate except for a dramatic swath of orange worthy of a modern artist (executed with pureed carrot jus), and one perfect violet pansy. Photo right, another example of a fashion-forward poulet. Merci, non.

Frenchman André Gayot rightly praises the the invention of French Nouvelle Cuisine, but he also says: “It would not be honest to eschew the exaggerations, abuses, and mistakes committed in good or bad faith in the name of Nouvelle Cuisine. In some establishments, the size of portions diminished in inverse proportion to that of the plate; the cooking time was reduced to zero; originality induced extravagance; some combinations were ridiculous”. Photo left: it's pretty, but does it tickle your tastebuds?

So I was thrilled to read in the New York Times that a well-known French chef (American born) named Daniel Rose, who has a reputation for shaking up the Paris food scene, has opened a new bistro in Paris which addresses this very problem. Called La Bourse et La Vie, Rose “applies his experience and skilled precision to the most comforting of French dishes: pot au feu, artichoke salad with foie gras, whole roasted chickens and steak-frites.” Rose says, “We’re doing a lot of the fundamental dishes that we learned about in cooking school but didn’t think were very interesting at the time,” Rose explains. “The reality is, these are the traditional recipes that many people travel to Paris for but which have become harder to find — or at least, hard to find executed with any care.” Photo right: digging in to a hearty Bresse chicken dish, anything but Nouvelle.

All the best to you, Monsieur Rose—-and let’s hope your new bistro shakes some sense into the French food scene!

In the COMMENTS: So many interesting comments from other expats who have made friends in France in various ways, don't miss them. And those of you who are curious about the healthcare system in France may want to read Mariella's comment.

FAVORITE READS: For you writers out there, or wannabe writers: does everyone know about NaNoWriMo? It's a quirky thing called National Novel Writing Month. The deal is, you write a novel, or any sort of book, in ONE MONTH (always November), along with a zillion other people as a support group. You "write with abandon", as they put it. Friends do it, families do it, sometimes even classrooms do it. It's a sort of marathon for those who like writing, even if you never publish your book. NPR did a great interview on All Things Considered with the founders. Some writers started it on a lark and it took off to become the largest writing event in the world.

Readers Carolyn & Ken Thompson launched a France-focused travel business in 2013, Your Key to Burgundy. It has been successful and they are launching a new website. Check it out if you're planning a trip to France.

We were pleased to discover a new website by a kindred spirit who lives in Uzes, one of our favorite towns in the south. You can meet Deborah at her blog, Barefoot Blogger.

Our readers Charley and Kathy have a lovely apartment they rent in Bonnieux if you're headed that way. See it here.

Please note that after you subscribe you must VERIFY YOUR SUBSCRIPTION, done with one-click by way of an email you’ll receive immediately. If you don’t do this, you have haven’t subscribed! There a quite a number of folks who have subscribed but not yet verified, so be sure to do this. And THANK YOU for subscribing!

08/27/2015

Sell your house, say good-bye to old friends, pack your suitcases and move to France, on a whim. That just about sums up what we did. There were bound to be some unanticipated surprises.

We could have ended up saying, “What were we THINKING?!” But we got lucky. Nearly 12 years later, our daily refrain is, “Aren’t we fortunate to live here?”

Of course there were many surprises along the way. But the biggest one involves an important question we never really asked ourselves, when we decided to make the move. Which was: “Who will our friends be?” Since we’re in a small village in la campagne, I supposed we’d learn French eventually and then hang out with the local villagers.

But we found our tribe in places and ways we did not expect. So who ARE our friends? Yes, we like the locals in the village, we chat with them in the streets, see them at village events, and serve on village committees with them. But the close friends we socialize with fall into three categories:

—Our châtelains Nicole and Pierre and the many friends that they’ve introduced to us, French and otherwise, who come from far and wide.

—Expats from many European countries, who live within about a 30 minute radius of us.

—French folks from the area, usually professionals and/or retireés, who’ve moved here for the great Bourgogne lifestyle.

Photo above, our tribe at a party at the château, with a Mexican theme. At right, Nicole, sporting some chic glasses, at her birthday party this week, with our friend Henri. Below, some friends gathered for a soirée chez nous.

The biggest of these groups are the expats. They come from all over: we have friends from Holland, England, Ireland, Australia, Germany, Switzerland, Norway, Italy, Finland, Morocco. There's even the odd American! (Idea: If you’re in France and want to meet some expats, sign up for a French language conversation group, you will surely find some there).

Take the lovely lunch party we went to last week, given by close friends who are Dutch (he) and American (she). I counted nine nationalities at the party.

Sometimes, the languages fly, Babel reborn. Folks (including me) have been known to bang on the table during a lively conversation to remind everyone: French or English are the universal languages at this table!

And the effect of living such an international life? Minds, opened wider. A better understanding of the big wide world, its cultural differences and its politics.

Our “unexpected consequnces”, the friends we’ve made--who are truly our “family” in France--have turned out to be the greatest treasure of our French adventure. Thank you dear friends, for making our life here such fun and so rewarding, and for helping out in so many ways.

Dear readers, if you live in France, where did you find your community of friends? Or, if you moved to France, who would your friends be? If you happen to be considering spending some extended time here, it’s not a bad question to ask. It’s not something you can plan for—in our case, it was pure serendipity—but it’s worth seeking out someone in the area you’re considering moving to, who might introduce you around to local folks, and make it a smoother transition. We hope you’ll be a lucky as we were!

In the COMMENTS: a big welcome to our new reader Abigail. She has a great blog called Abigail's Garden. If you're interested in gardening/food/travel, you will want to check it out. Abigail is traveling in our area this week, as you'll see from her blog. Meanwhile Dani (of the Sunflowers & Pomegranates blog), Julie, Paula and Natalia share recipes/cooking tips. Natalia, that's funny, I do the same thing with my tomato tart, it's good. Carole tells more about Maille. Martin, you and Pete are brave to eat andouillette, and smothering it in mustard seems the best way to get it down!

A note to SUBSCRIBERS and to those who’ve tried to: Merci, to several folks who told me they were having trouble with email subscriptions. My resident Cyber-stud has fixed the problem, we hope. If you still don’t get an email notice about the blog, please take a moment to resubscribe. It should work fine.

Please note that after you subscribe you must VERIFY YOUR SUBSCRIPTION, done with one-click by way of an email you’ll receive immediately. If you don’t do this, you have haven’t subscribed! There a quite a number of folks who have subscribed but not yet verified, so be sure to do this. And THANK YOU for subscribing!

08/13/2015

For us, Dijon—that bastion of mustard and former home to the powerful Ducs de Bourgogne—has been the nearby Burgundy town that is our neglected stepchild. It’s only half an hour beyond Beaune (where we regularly go, see my post 5 Reason to Visit Beaune on your Next Trip to France), but we rarely seem to get up as far as Dijon.

So when our friends John and Joan suggested an architectural tour for the day, with lunch of course, we eagerly hopped on board, with our international équipe (only 8 of us, but we were French, Dutch, Irish, Australian, and American).

And if you’re an architecture lover, especially of the historic variety, you’ll want to do the same, next time you’re in La Bourgogne. The churches, palaces, and public buildings of Dijon are extraordinary, and often distinguished by their toits bourguignons, or colorful geometric tile roofs.

We learned something new, though: We missed seeing the famous Musée des Beaux-Arts, as Tuesday is a universal closing day for museums, all across France. (Not to be confused with Sundays and Mondays, when most everything is closed, and often Wednesday afternoons, plus daily for a 2 to 3 hour lunch, plus fermatures exceptionnel, and a month of lesvacances. But I digress).

I’m an architecture enthusiast, but here was my favorite thing in Dijon: we went to a tasting of les moutardes. Who knew? There is a famous mustard store called Boutique de Maille, where you can browse and sample mustards you never dreamed of. They give you little cigarette-sized crackers for dipping, if you were wondering how one samples multiple mustards. We tasted, for example: pistachio orange, hazelnut with black chanterelle mushroom, aubergine, cassis, apricot curry, gingerbread chestnut, and fig coriander. There was also mustard en vrac (on tap), made with various Burgundy white wines and dispensed from fancy canisters by comely French femmes. All quite posh, and delicious, I might add. I bought a sampler—good excuse for a tasting party chez nous! Though I’m to old to play the part of the shapely blond (OK, I never could), so I shall just have to fake it.

Photo, right: Serving up mustard en vrac, laced with various white Burgundies. You can find some of the Maille flavors in the US.

RECIPE: Not Rabbit in Mustard Sauce

For many years even before we moved to France, I’ve been making a recipe I cut from Gourmet magazine, called Rabbit in Mustard Sauce, which is a Burgundian special. Except I don’t eat bunnies! So I make it with chicken instead. It's fairly easy and really tasty. Now I’m thinking about all the fancy mustards I can try it with…

Finely chop the onion. Season chicken pieces with salt and pepper. In a deep large heavy skillet heat oil over moderate heat until hot but not smoking and brown chicken on all sides, in batches. Transfer pieces as browned to a large bowl.

In same skillet cook onion in 1 tablespoon butter over moderately low heat, stirring, until softened. Add wine and boil until liquid is reduced by about half. Return chicken to skillet and add broth. Simmer, covered, until tender, about 45 minutes.

Transfer chicken to large bowl and boil sauce until reduced to about 2 cups. In a small bowl whisk together 1/4 cup sauce and mustard and whisk mixture into sauce. In another small bowl stir cornstarch into 1 tablespoon cold water and whisk into sauce. Simmer sauce, whisking, 3 minutes, or until thickened. Whisk in remaining tablespoon butter, parsley, and salt and pepper to taste. Return chicken to skillet and cook over moderately low heat, turning to coat with sauce, until heated through.

Dijon details, below: Entry to l'Eglise Notre-Dame de Dijon; and a carved wooden door from one of the many gorgeous churches.

I know many of you are familiar with Dijon (and our loyal reader Julie is lucky enough to have a house there!). Any Dijon moments or travel tips to share?

A note to SUBSCRIBERS and to those who’ve tried to: Merci, to several folks who alerted me that they were having trouble with email subscriptions. My resident Cyber-stud has fixed the problem, we hope. If you still don’t get an email notice about the blog, please take a moment to resubscribe. It should work fine now.

Please note that after you subscribe you must VERIFY YOUR SUBSCRIPTION, done with one-click by way of an email you’ll receive immediately. If you don’t do this, you have haven’t subscribed! There a quite a number of folks who have subscribed but not yet verified, so be sure to do this. And THANK YOU for subscribing!

07/30/2015

One of my early introductions to this classic Spanish dish, which is also very popular in France when you have a crowd to feed and want to show off your cooking chops, was in the Carrefour, that famous French hypermarché, or giant grocery store. While mulling over the produce, I was startled by a very loud, guttural cry—“pie ALE´ya!”—which emanated from the heart of the store at regular intervals. I followed the voix forte, and the lovely aroma, to find a quirky monsieur in a chef’s hat stirring a gargantuan shallow pot of steaming paella. This is the French version of take-out.

I’ve since eaten paella in Barcelona and Madrid and in France too, but I’ve never had a better one than the paella which is a speciality of our own châtelaine, Nicole (though our friend Marc makes a mean one as well). She only makes it when there’s a crowd, as there was last week when Nicole and Pierre threw a party for 60 or so, to thank the folks who have helped with the renovation of their new digs. Photo left: my friend Sandi and I, pretending to be the chefs who made this beautiful paella, instead of just the eaters.

Paella is a word that is impossible to pronounce correctly, since to my ears every person here, both French and ex-pat, has their own pronunciation of it, which they are absolutely convinced is the one and only correct one (my French dictionary offers up three pronunciations, including [paɪ'ɛlə]. Figure that one out). So say it however you like, just be sure to insist on its accuracy.

Mixed paella is a lavish dish, with a base of rice and vegetables and spices. To this one adds chicken, sausages, and shrimp. For her supersized paellas, Nicole has a special round, shallow pan which sits on its own stand, with a built-in gas burner. There are few things more enticing than a bubbling pot of paella, ready to dish up in large portions. Of course no Southern girl can resist it, rice being one of the major food groups in South Carolina. Photo right: At a previous party, Nicole preps for a paella.

“Hey Nicole,” said I, thinking of the blog, or of a nice dinner for Ron, “can you cut down that recipe for 60 into paella for two?” Pas de problème, though she has wisely retained the crowd concept and adjusted it for a dozen hungry paella fans. Just sing that name out loudly, and watch the masses gather!

RECIPE: Nicole’s Party Paella

Now, we know the French like small portions, but when Nicole cooks for a crowd, she goes all out and serves up copious quantities of food. She has cut down the recipe to feed 12, but it looks to me more like food for at least 30 famished folks. After all, there are over 20 pounds of meat/fish in this recipe. So be advised, and be hungry!

In general the meat/fish should be cut into serving-sized pieces. You will need a big shallow Paella Pan, or make it in a couple of big skillets.

1 teaspoon each, or more to taste: salt, pepper, paprika, and saffron. (Throw in a bit of turmeric if you want your rice to be more yellow)

4 cups (about a liter) of fish stock (make this from the mussel cooking liquid, combined with fish heads, bones, and shrimp shells)

Steam the mussels in 1 cup of water until just open. Remove mussels from shells, set aside. Retain cooking liquid as base for stock. Make fish stock, as above.

In a very large, shallow skillet, brown the chicken thighs in vegetable oil until golden on each side, and remove from skillet. Leave oil and browned bits in skillet. Add pork, adding oil as needed to brown it, and remove to a platter. Repeat same process with fish and calamari. You are building flavors here, so do not wash skillet at any point.

Over medium high heat, add the rice to the skillet, along with the spices. Stir well. Add the tomatoes, peppers, and vegetables. Stir well and let it cook 5 minutes, stirring frequently.

When the rice is nearly cooked, add all the fish and meat. Cook until rice is tender, about 5 minutes. Turn off heat, cover pan with foil and let it rest for 10 minutes, then serve.

Photo: the crowd, primed with wine and ready to dig in to the paella.

Joan, thank you for remembering to take some nice photos, while I was distracted by the wine!

In the COMMENTS: Pardon my French, thanks for the correction, folks. Christine, what a heart-warming story, and I wish I had 3 cats. Natalia, love your little round cabbages! Martin’s French lesson: Ouah ouah, says le toutou! Herm has a French lesson of a different kind. Iz, do come back sometime. And Michaela, I can hardly get my head around a four year drought—four months is killing us! Glad the grapes are thriving.

Favorite Reads: Our friend Peter Ingle in Charleston is a writer with two interesting projects you may want to check out. He has a website/newsletter on classical art happenings in Charleston, called Charleston Today. And, as professional writer, he has written an ebook called Think Before You Write. It's a straightforward guide to clear, organized writing that you'll want to get for all the students you know, and maybe even for yourself. It's a bargain at $3.99.